The Shipping Lanes
by 5Mississippis
Summary: Leonard, at sea.
1. Chapter 1

The Shipping Lanes

Leonard's trembling hand once again slipped on the wet railing as he struggled to keep his balance against the strong wind and the rolling of the ship. Closing his eyes, he turned his face to the ever-present wind and breathed in large gulps. The fine salt mist lifted by the steady breeze did little to help revive him or clear his head.

Little circles of warm white lights from the ships windows spilled out on the deserted deck in an interrupted pattern, silhouetting him as he desperately clung to the rail. Behind him, in the galley, he could hear the soft, murmuring voices of the crew and the occasional bursts of laughter as they enjoyed the warmth of friendship.

It was dangerous to be out here alone like this, at night, in the middle of a rough sea. But he just had to get out of his cabin for some fresh air. Dank and claustrophobic, it had a musty smell of dirty feet, which only served to redouble his nausea.

Doctor Hartjes, the Dutch doctor who had been monitoring his profound seasickness and nearing dehydration, had left him explicit instructions for bed rest and to take fluids, at the bare minimum, four ounces per hour as well as consuming the mineral/electrolyte drink. But try as he might, the few drops he managed to get down came right back up and the thick orange tang of the electrolyte drink made him gag.

Despite the chill breeze and his wet clothes, he felt hot. So very hot. Removing his hand from the safety of the rail, he began to tear at the collar of his jacket and open it up. After fumbling with the buttons, his outer coat loosened and the cool, wet breeze whipped around his chest and sides.

Breathing now easier, on unsteady legs, Leonard looked out at the sea and the sky, marveling once again at where he was: the historied North Sea.

Suddenly, the weakness and dizziness that Leonard was able to keep in check by the sheer force of will was overwhelming. Heart laboring in a staccato beat, his head began to loll and the world began to tip, then spin. The stars became a whirling funnel as the black sea lifted into the black sky. Leonard tried to stop it and revive himself. He closed his eyes and rested his burning forehead against the cool wet of the rail. But this time, the pull was too powerful and he was too weak, and he gave in to the spinning sensation. Balance lost, now unable to fight the reeling, he fell face first to the floor with a soft thud, boneless, like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

He lay on the wet deck, his breath coming in frosty gasps, feebly clawing at the floor as he tried to find purchase against the whirlpool-like spinning in his head. But the battle was lost and he was being pulled into the blackness.

_Penny. I think I'm dying, _was his last thought as consciousness drained away.

…..

_A/N: Just a short first chapter in a little two chapter story about Leonard's time at sea.__ It features sick Leonard, of course, because this is me and it's sad to say I really don't do anything else. Ah, well. Please feel free to comment, criticize, question, or review as anything will be gratefully accepted. _


	2. Chapter 2

The Shipping Lanes – Chapter 2

His ear pressed to the deck, over the steady hum of the ship's engines, he could hear someone anxiously calling his name.

"Dr. Hofstadter! Dr. Hofstadter!"

And now he could feel hands on his shoulder and hip as he was being gently turned over onto his back.

"Dr. Hofstadter! Can you hear me?"

His mind hazy, his eyes fluttered open and saw the broad, blurry face of Dr. Hartjes floating above him in the blackness, like a moon.

"What are you doing out here? Are you trying to fall overboard?" The words were laced with the doctor's thick Dutch accent.

"I just .. wanted … to see .. the ….…. shipping lanes."

The doctor's expressive face showed his surprise and it was reflected in his voice.

"The shipping lanes! My God! You could have gotten yourself killed!"

Leonard felt the front of his jacket tighten and the material gather at his throat as it bunched in the larger man's hand. His chest lifted, his arms dangling at his sides as the doctor hauled him by the coat towards the windows, away from the danger of the railing.

Still tightly holding on to the fabric, Leonard watched as the doctor's free hand balled into a fist and pounded on the round window of the galley, his large hand nearly blocking out all the escaping light.

"Help! I need some help out here!" He yelled to the crew sitting on the other side of the glowing window.

A door opened up and Leonard saw white light and shadowed crew members spill out onto the black deck in response to the doctor's calls.

"Get a litter please. We need to get him to the sick bay."

He couldn't make out any of the people surrounding him as they were just silhouettes created the door light. But some spoke to him, their voices filled with concern.

"Dr. Hofstadter! What are you doing out here?"

"Oh my goodness! What happened?"

"He said something about wanting to see the shipping lanes," Dr. Hartjes answered for him.

The dizzying sensation of being lifted and then carried, the dark giving way to the harsh, fluorescent light of the ship's interior.

Leonard realized he must have fainted again because the next thing he knew he was laying on a cot in the sick bay. His jacket and shirt had been removed. The doctor was putting electrocardiogram leads on his chest while Willem, his medical assistant, was affixing oxygen tubing to his face.

"OK, Dr. Hofstadter," the Dutchman said as the leads were connected and the electronic beeping of Leonard's heartbeat filled the room. Dr. Hartjes adjusted his glasses and examined the squiggly lines displayed by the EKG monitor, "let's see what you have done to yourself."

Leonard felt a tourniquet tighten around his forearm. After putting a small towel across his abdomen and thighs, Willem lay blood collection tubes, IV cannulas, sterile needles and an IV start kit on his belly.

Leonard groaned as he looked down at the assembled equipment on his heaving belly. He knew what was coming. Needles. He hated needles. His stomach lurched.

The young man gave him a comforting smile.

"Don't move now. Try to stay still. I'm using you like a table," Willem said in broken English as he began to forcefully flick his fingers at the collapsed veins in Leonard's hand and arm, encouraging one to fill and surface.

Dr. Hartjes turned from the monitor. "Well, we have the classic symptoms of dehydration and the cardiac showing of hypokalemia, low potassium. Prolonged PR interval, increased amplitude of the P wave, and palpitations." The doctor put a latex glove on his hand and examined Leonard's split lips, the fissures in his tongue. "Have you been able to drink anything?"

Leonard shook his head. "No. Nothing has been staying down."

"Not even the electrolyte drink?"

"No."

"Are you passing any water?"

Leonard shook his head slightly. "I can't remember the last time."

Dr. Hartjes' mouth became a thin line as he shook his head. "You should have come to see me two days ago. It's a good thing I decided to check on you. God knows how long you could have been laying out there."

"Thank you," Leonard started to say, grateful for the doctor's intervention. But the words ended in a jagged hiss as he felt the sharp pinch of the needle and IV cannula enter his vein. However, the dehydration left the veins collapsed and Leonard felt Willem poking and probing, moving the pointed needle under the thin skin of his arm. Too much. It was all too much. His stomach contracted and Leonard quickly turned onto his left side, sending the sterile equipment that was piled on his belly flying across the small room, his right arm pulled behind him, still held in Willem's hand.

The violent stomach contractions were painful and dry. Nothing came up save for a foul tasting trickle of bilious spittle.

When the episode passed, the doctor assisted Leonard to turn back on to the cot and helped him to wipe the dribble from his mouth.

"Thank you," Leonard gasped.

The doctor collected the spilled equipment and returned them to the makeshift table that was Leonard's belly. "Were we able to save the IV access?"

Willem looked at the doctor and nodded. "Ja," he responded in Dutch.

Dazedly, Leonard watched as the medical assistant drew two tubes of blood from the cannula in his arm and then attach a bag of IV solution. The roller clamp on the tubing was left wide open and the clear bag quickly collapsed as the fluid flowed rapidly into his arm. When the level dropped and the bag was nearly empty, it was replaced by another.

Dr. Hartjes appeared above him. "We have your blood spinning in the centrifuge and we'll check your electrolytes. But in the meantime, there are two medications in here," he said, holding up a syringe, "a sedative and an anti-emetic. They should help quite a bit."

Finding the hub on the IV line, Dr. Hartjes pushed the medications into the tubing and into Leonard's vein.

Leonard felt the warmth travel up his arm and spike straight into his head. In a floating, dreamy stupor, Willem sat him up and lifted his arms as he helped him to get into a patient gown and then set about to remove his wet shoes and socks. The doctor helped him to stand as the assistant removed his dungarees. Lightheaded and spinning pleasantly like a child in a tea-cup ride, Willem eased Leonard back down to the cot. Then covering him with a warm blanket, Leonard quickly fell into a deep sleep.

His beautiful Penny came to him in his dreams_. _

_Impossibly, she was there, standing beside him as he lay curled on the small bed._

_He reached out for her. And magically, his head was pillowed on her lap. Turning, he put his arms around her waist, pulling her close. _

_His brown eyes met her green ones. "Penny … Penny. I feel like I'm dying. I don't want to leave you like this."_

"_Shhh … shhh," her soft voice floated down to him, her fingers running through the dark curls on his head. _

"_I feel like an idiot. I just wanted you to be proud of me."_

_Her fingers lightly caressed the side of his face and brow. "I am proud of you! Now, just rest. I'll be right here while you sleep."_

"_Please don't leave."_

"_I never will."_

…_.._

Six weeks later …

In the deep black of the night, lit only by the ship's navigation lights, Leonard stood alone on the starboard side of the deck, listening to the surf roar as the ship turned windward, heading northeast.

Their research team's attempts at an experimental verification of Unruh Radiation in a hydrodynamic simulation was now bringing them to the deepest part of the North Sea, the Norwegian Trench.

Leonard sighed. He preferred it when they were more westward for a very foolish reason: a one-hour time difference. When they were closer to the United Kingdom, he was only eight hours away from Penny.

Penny.

His beautiful Penny.

Leonard smiled.

If only she could see him now, a thinner version of his former self.

His initial sea-sickness burned twenty-three pounds from his small frame. It had taken him some time to find his sea legs. But now he was active and felt well. Pleased with his progress, Dr. Hartjes monitored him weekly. The first few days of his illness were touch and go. And the doctor just recently mentioned he was ready to have him evacuated from the ship the night they carried him in unconscious from the deck.

Lifting his arm, Leonard pulled back the sleeve of his jacket to once again check the time. Using this thumb, he wiped away the mist and condensation from the crystal watch face.

One AM. Which would make it 4PM in Pasadena.

Tonight, they had a phone call scheduled and Penny would be home from work at five.

One more hour.

And he'd happily wait that hour here, enjoying the solitude, just watching the sea and sky.

Above, the white sliver of a sickle moon and millions of glittering stars were sprinkled across the black sky. Below, black water, hundreds of fathoms deep slapped endlessly against the hull.

Black and white.

The colors of the North Sea at night.

It was inexpressively beautiful.

But as always, Leonard's eyes were drawn away from the sublime to the very ordinary shipping lanes.

They fascinated him.

Wherever he went on this sea, he saw them. Mesmerized, he would watch the lights of the great cargo laden vessels passing silently in the distance travelling in the shipping lanes.

Whatever cargo they carried, it didn't matter.

He thought about the crews aboard those vessels. The men who were away from their families for months, now returning back to the warmth of hearth and home, about to be reunited with their loved ones, delivered by the shipping lanes.

Their port was near, their journey at an end. Longing eased, a restless heart carried home. And one day soon, his task will be done and, like them, the shipping lanes will take him home to his love, who was waiting for him on a distant shore.

…..The End…..

_A/N: Thank you for reading this far and I hope you have enjoyed __the story!_


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